As for me, I do not in the least pretend to have accepted the
final logic of an achieved poverty. I have merely abolished
temporarily from my life a few hens and cows, a comfortable old
farmhouse, and--certain other emoluments and hereditaments--but
remain the slave of sundry cloth upon my back and sundry articles
in my gray bag--including a fat pocket volume or so, and a tin
whistle. Let them pass now. To-morrow I may wish to attempt life
with still less. I might survive without my battered copy of
"Montaigne" or even submit to existence without that sense of
distant companionship symbolized by a postage-stamp, and as for
trousers--

In this deceptive world, how difficult of attainment is perfection!

No, I expect I shall continue for a long time to owe the worm his
silk, the beast his hide, the sheep his wool, and the cat his
perfume! What I am seeking is something as simple and as quiet as
the trees or the hills --just to look out around me at the
pleasant countryside, to enjoy a little of this show, to meet
(and to help a little if I may) a few human beings, and thus to
get nearly into the sweet kernel of human life). My friend, you
may or may not think this a worthy object; if you do not, stop
here, go no further with me; but if you do, why, we'll exchange
great words on the road; we'll look up at the sky together, we'll
see and hear the finest things in this world! We'll enjoy the
sun! We'll live light in spring!

Until last Tuesday, then, I was carried easily and comfortably
onward by the corn, the eggs, and the honey of my past labours,